


After Hours

by GothicWolf03



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Love/Hate, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5384252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicWolf03/pseuds/GothicWolf03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is for the poll winners Jacob and Charlotte. Congrats!</p><p>Charlotte always stays a few hours longer to practice, though she hadn’t expected for him to disrupt her routine. They soon find their own method in releasing their pent-up frustrations. Modern!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> So I reviewed my works, and to my disappointment I don't have any modern AU stories, and what better way to experiment than with these two? XD
> 
> Thanks again for taking the time to answer my poll! I've had this idea in my head for a while, and I just had to share it with all you guys!
> 
> WARNING: VERY explicit, rough sex
> 
> Gothic: Don't judge me too hard . . .
> 
> Charlotte: This is her first smut story--she's inexperienced.
> 
> Gothic: N-no! It's actually my second. I WILL be stronger--it's my destiny!
> 
> Charlotte: *sweat drops* Dramatic much?
> 
> Gothic: . . . You're just asking for it to be longer, aren't you?
> 
> Charlotte: . . . . . .

Sweat fluidly trailed down her temples, aggressive fists skillfully beating at the punching bag in front of her while the chains loudly rattled with every hit she took. Determined eyes focused on the flying object swaying forward and backward, not wasting time for the large bag to take a breather as her clenched fists brutally collided with her target at full force.

The lights of the gym were dimmed low, shadows crawling all over the crevices of the cracks webbing out across the pristine floor. The only bright light came from the low-hanging lamp above the raven-haired woman, defining her erect posture as she encircled the bag, and she abruptly alternated between using her arms and legs to senselessly beat the object. So focused was she on her training that she didn’t stop to turn around at the approaching figure slowly walking towards her, though his trudging footsteps easily gave away his identity to her.

Charlotte halted her assault, easing up a bit so she could fully converse with the bulky figure behind her, lightly patting the bag. “Leaving, Cormac?”

The Irishman softly smiled, shrugging his sports bag over his bare shoulder. He used the white towel to wipe at the excess sweat across his forehead. “I don’t want to be late to Master Kenway’s meeting tomorrow. You should get some sleep, lass—you’ve been here all day.”

“I’m fine, Shay. Besides, I don’t get much sleep anyway,” she replied, stepping off the mat and strolling towards the bench where she grabbed her water bottle.

“Are you sure I can’t take you home?” he asked, concern flitting across his rugged features.

She silently shook her head, gulping the refreshing drink past her parted lips. Wiping the droplet that escaped onto her chin, she set the bottle down on the surface of the bench, readjusting her gloves before taking her stance back on the blue mat. “Thanks, but I can manage.”

Shay reluctantly nodded, patting her glistening shoulder. “Alright. Be sure to lock up when you’re done. See you tomorrow, lass.”

“Shay?”

The dark-haired man confusedly stared back at her, half-expecting for the tall woman to change her mind, but he only blinked at the set of keys thrown into his outstretched palm, catching the small object instantly between his fingers. He sheepishly grinned back at her, “I forgot.”

“Hm.” She softly smirked, looking at him one more time before raising her toned arms at eye-level. “Take care.”

After she listened to his footsteps recede into the background, Charlotte immediately fell back into rhythm, her ink black hair swaying from her footwork. The tall woman stayed practicing for over two hours, not once stopping for a break as it began to grow pitch black outside. She sighed, releasing a shaky breath while wiping at the perspiration on her skin; Charlotte was about to return practicing when, startled, she held onto the bag from the loud noise vibrating throughout the gym.

The Scottish woman didn’t comment; she silently walked over to her duffel bag, digging through the set of clothes to find her smartphone brightly blaring at the bottom while her metal rock ringtone sounded. Electric blue eyes cautiously observed the unknown number on her screen, unsure whether or not to answer the call as she stared at the first three letters.

_It looks familiar . . ._

She brushed aside her loose ponytail from her neck, deciding to just ignore the call and focus on her training. Her finger pressed onto the red dial before scrolling through her playlist to play a random rock song, and then she carefully placed the object back inside her bag.

“Well, that was rude.”

Charlotte reeled back from the deep, playful tone, eyes dangerously narrowing at the British man coyly walking towards her with his phone placed inside the pocket of his pants. “What are you doing here?”

Jacob ignored her question, nodding his head as he surveyed the expansive gym in front of him. “Nice, better than our order’s crappy place.” He then averted his attention fully onto the woman in front of him, a cunning smile stretched across his chiseled face as he approached her, hands entrapping her in place. “You seem distracted . . .”

The tall woman glowered at him, her fingers clenching into tight fists when he teasingly padded his fingers along her arms. She roughly shoved him off of her, ignoring the cold shiver crawling down her spine from the familiar gesture. “I don’t have time for this, Frye. I came here to train, and I especially don’t need you interrupting me.”

He stopped smiling then, an intense look in his hazel-green eyes while his jaw clenched. “Guess this means we aren’t on a first name basis anymore, _Charlotte_.”

She silently pushed past him, refusing to feel any ounce of pity for him as she stood in front of the punching bag. She wished he would just leave her alone, but apparently he wasn’t going to allow that to happen, not after their messy breakup last year. As much as it pained her, for he was her only love, Charlotte had to end things after she was accepted by the Templar Co. They had valued her high intelligence and professional skills, and had offered a great deal of money sufficient enough to cover over five years’ worth of expenses. And of course, when she had to be honest with her boyfriend and inform him about the job offer, he vehemently protested against the notion.

Words were said, things were already set and stone, and the next moment she had harshly tossed the keys at him, coldly walking out of their shared apartment with all of her belongings, refusing to look back. And she failed to notice the pained expression on his face when she had left that morning with a broken heart.

Charlotte never understood how they managed to survive for long; she was close friends with his older sister due to the brunette being romantically involved with Henry, whom Charlotte had known all her life, and they remained best of friends throughout the seven years they’ve known each other. It was through Evie that the stoic woman was introduced to her reckless brother, whom she at first thought was too forward with her and only cared for her physical appearance like most men who tried to approach her. So, the raven-haired woman remained solitary, attending parties and other important gatherings for the sake of being there for her friends, and Jacob kept pinning after her every chance he could get.

In the end, the tall woman consented after he stubbornly waited outside her dorm in the pouring rain, all soaked to the bone and refusing to leave until she came out to see him. Her Irish roommate, Emily, had snickered to herself when a man finally asked her out, congratulating Charlotte for finally “getting out there” as she would say.

As much as she had feared the relationship would spiral downhill, Charlotte was surprised that the two of them managed to stay together for over three years. They were both so different; he was spontaneous and outgoing, and she was reserved yet deadly, though that’s what had drawn them to each other throughout the years they’ve been an item. Like fire and ice.

_Opposites attract._

She heavily sighed, cracking her knuckles as she was preparing to continue where she left off, soaking in the intense guitar solo echoing in the background. When she almost released the punch aimed for the bag, a hand had loomed over her outstretched fist and yanked her back, causing her to stumble. She managed to control her disarray, and Charlotte abruptly swung at his face, though he easily blocked her hand. The raven-haired woman acceptably relished in the pain of his hand clenching against hers as his knuckles turned white, and he effectively brought her flushed body against his.

“What are you doing?” She struggled against his constrictive hold, bringing a gloved hand to push at his chin from coming closer to her.

Jacob only chuckled lowly against her palm, bringing the writhing woman closer to his muscular frame with his hands still firmly placed over her hips. “Why don’t you fight me instead?”

“What?”

The Scottish woman nervously watched as he finally let go of her, his large hands reaching for the helm of his shirt and fluidly lifting it over his head. She shuffled in her spot, head slightly turned away so she wouldn’t gawk at the rippling muscles bulging on sight, but she did manage to glimpse at the raven tattoo adorning his left pectoral. Why he ever got one was beyond her, but Charlotte mentally admitted that he pulled it off well.

“Is this really necessary?” she asked him, tightening her gloves.

“You’re not backing out, are you?” he taunted, standing perfectly still while his eyes roamed over her poised stature.

“No.”

They encircled one another like hawks, waiting to see who would strike first. She calculated his every step, already anticipating for him to start off with a right hook like he usually does whenever they got physical. Her head veered towards the right, dodging his rapid move while jabbing a swift uppercut at his abdomen. He grunted, taking her wrists to prevent another onslaught, and then shoved her a good few feet away from him.

Charlotte maintained her balance, moving out of the way as he pounced towards her. Placing her hands on the mat, she build up a large amount of energy before spinning on her heel and delivering a powerful heel kick aimed for his chest, but her eyes widened when he clasped her ankle to stop her attack before she could even make contact.

_Since when did he ever dodge my attacks? Never knew he took his training seriously . . ._

The next thing she knew it, the dark-haired woman was thrown over, her knees scraping against the hard texture of the ground below her.

She hissed from the burning pain flaring through the fabric of her pants, forcibly holding back a pained cry. Before she could get back up, Jacob had wrapped his arms around her neck in a chokehold, possessively holding her up against his bare chest. Charlotte could feel his chest rumble behind her, the male heaving up and down while his warm breath tickled her ear.

“Getting sloppy, are we?” he teased.

“Don’t get cocky,” she hissed, hitting against his forearm so she could escape, though he refused to let go. The tall woman stilled when the British male steadily loomed over her midriff top while his other hand held her back, gasping as his fingers deftly started unzipping it from the front. “Jacob!”

He hummed in appreciation, his stubble grazing her neck while gently leaving sloppy kisses along the path, slowly rising towards her ear. His sharp teeth lightly ghosted over her erratic pulse before taking the tip of her lobe in between his teeth, using his moist tongue to massage it.

The Scottish woman felt herself buckle underneath him, a faint blush trying to fight its way onto her face when she felt his saliva coat her ear. Her shoulders flared up from the intimate contact, and she shivered when the cold air slapped against her exposed, ample chest, watching her midriff carelessly fall onto the floor in front of her. She finally released a shaky moan when he cupped one of her breasts, feeling him darkly chuckle from the noise.

“Cute, love,” he lowly stated before harshly sucking on her neck.

 _Prick,_ she bitterly thought. _He’s enjoying this._

An idea wormed its way into her head, and she allowed for her muscles to relax within his hold; no longer was she resilient but instead complied with his treatment, her head falling back onto his shoulder so she could stare into his eyes while he left a hickey on her porcelain skin. Charlotte felt him stop uneasily, no doubt trying to decipher what she was doing past her stoic expression, but he didn’t dwell on it for long as his hands slithered down over the expanse of her stomach until they stopped over the brim of her black pants, never once breaking eye contact.

Before Jacob could start untying the knot, the raven-haired woman had viciously elbowed his stomach, which successfully made the male cry out from the unexpected move and stagger backwards. Reaching for her discarded top, she started zipping back the tight material over her chest, fumbling with the zipper until his hands were on her again. Charlotte twisted her body around so that her leg can straddle around his pelvis, using her hands to slam him back onto the mat, firmly holding his wrists down.

“You thought it would be that simple?” she lowly replied, gulping from the dilated hazel eyes staring right back at her.

“A man has to try,” he huskily whispered, licking his lips as he intently watched her zip her top all the way in disappointment, concealing her chest from his view. Jacob worked his hands to tightly grip onto her sweaty hips, pushing her up towards him so she could feel his hard arousal. “Fuck, I miss this.”

Charlotte shivered from his foul mouth, suddenly finding it harder to breathe while he shamelessly grinded against her, feeling the outline of his cock strain against the flimsy fabric of his pants. Heat pooled between her legs, and the intense pressure started building as Jacob picked up his pace. She gritted her teeth when his hands slid towards her ass, their shiny bodies meeting chest to chest while they roughly kissed.

The deafening music in the background couldn’t block out the incessant moans from both pairs, teeth clashing and tongues molding together in a wicked dance. The Scottish woman leisurely roamed over his bottom lip, biting down hard so she could push her way into his moist cavern. She languidly lapped over his tongue, causing the British man below her to jut his hips against her, a pleased moan vibrating inside her mouth. Charlotte broke apart for air, a string of saliva connected between their swollen lips until Jacob abruptly leaned up to bite down on the juncture of her neck. She cringed, fingers weaving through his brown locks while he continued assaulting her.

“Who the hell taught you to kiss like that?” he hotly growled, venturing down towards her collarbone.

Charlotte tightened her hold on his slicked hair, legs straddling his burly hips while watching him through narrowed eyes. “You’re crazy.”

“You got that right, love.” The sound of a zipper being pulled down resonated between their panting breaths, slowly fading away until it finally unclasped from the end of her top. It sinfully brushed down her shoulders, arms coming out of the sleeves while he drew back her long hair to better view her bouncing breasts. “Now, answer the question. Was it a Templar?”

“N-no,” she stammered, fighting his hands that savagely fondled her nipples aggressively. Charlotte was about to slap him, though he caught her hand and lazily slung it over his shoulder, gruffly nipping her pulse.

“Better be telling the truth, love. It won’t be pretty.” His mouth detached from her neck, trailing down to the valley of her breasts, peppering kisses along the way. “Who was it?”

The raven-haired woman shook her head, nails digging into his bulging shoulders. “I told you already.”

He wasn’t too pleased with her dodging the question, so he snaked his hands over her waist ever so sneaky, and then he swiftly turned her around so that her front lay flat against the mat. Jacob wasted no time in pawing inside her pants, his thumb teasingly skimming over her moist underwear in an agonizing manner. He could see her fist pounding against the floor, trying so hard not to give in to his sick ministrations. _Two could play it this game._

“Ah!” Charlotte hissed, biting her lower lip while her ex-boyfriend encircled her clit. Black locks fell over her shoulder, plastering against her flushed skin that turned pink from the humidity in the room. She craned her neck around to see him offering her a shit-eating grin, glaring at him as the man leaned down to lick across her spine.

Large hands dug into her thighs to hold her in place, supporting her waist so she wouldn’t fall over from the overwhelming sensation. Her heart felt as if it would burst through her chest from the immense pressure, directing her head elsewhere so she wouldn’t focus on the way he caressed her with such precision with his hot appendage, detailing across every dip of her muscles. The Scottish woman felt his fingers cup underneath her chin, forcing her to face his full-blown hazel eyes and stern expression.

“Was it that fucking Irishman?” he hissed, kissing her forehead. “I see you two together all the time.”

“Never knew you cared,” she bluntly replied.

Jacob increased his manhandling on her thighs, letting his fingers dig deep into her skin that could potently draw out blood. His eyes flared, and he sloppily shoved his tongue down her throat before briefly departing, breathing sporadically in her hair. “ _Was it_?”

“No, dammit!”

Charlotte was tempted to piss him off, just so he could have a taste of his own medicine, yet somehow she wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his dark, possessive side. This wasn’t the only time it happened; sometimes, when she used to briefly talk to an acquaintance from work, who most of the time happened to be a male, Jacob would personally make sure she stayed away from them, no matter who they were. She still remembered that one time Henry was going to ask for balloons for Evie’s surprise birthday party, which was also Jacob’s birthday, and Jacob had walked in misinterpreting the word as a sexual connotation, and seeing them standing so close had looked too personal for his liking.

Next day, Henry had to lie in front of his girlfriend as to how he got the shiner across his eye, explaining that a revolving door had slammed against his face. Charlotte had wanted to murder Jacob for his behavior, especially when Henry was their closest friend and he should’ve had more faith in the Indian man, but she bit her tongue down, not wanting the twins to fight on their birthday. She made damn sure he begged for Henry’s forgiveness afterwards, even if he had to beg on his knees.

“It better not be,” Jacob barked, making her focus on him while he fisted his hand through her thick hair. “You’re _mine_!”

Her pants, along with her undergarment, easily slide down her thighs by his hands, her ankles helping to kick out of them. Charlotte’s elbows trembled underneath her weight, her entire body shaking when Jacob slid a finger inside her without warning. She bit her bottom lip, groaning as he inserted more inside of her, pumping in and out sluggishly as her juices coated his hand.

The British man felt her quivering underneath him, and hearing her low moans made his cock twitch painfully, already wanting to be inside of her. How long had it been since they’ve had sex like this? He couldn’t remember; it felt like a lifetime without her, and he could just cry in bliss from finally having her back again. Like her, he never had anyone he could fully relate to, someone whom he couldn’t imagine being with for eternity, yet meeting her changed his entire perspective. Everywhere he went, he was tormented by her steely eyes and sweet-smelling fragrance, both contrasting together like a plague. But that’s what she was; his Charlotte was tough and rough on the outside, but tender and caring on the inside.

And he wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from him.

“Jacob!”

“Come on, love,” he groaned when he felt her take him in, loving the tightness of her sex pulling him closer and closer to her. Jacob could just imagine what it must feel like to finally connect together as a whole, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

With a final groan, the raven-haired woman shuddered underneath him, feeling her entire body freeze on the spot as she orgasmed, finally collapsing onto the ground in front of her. Her vision was blinded; it was painful blinking through the dim atmosphere, for white hot flashes appeared everywhere she looked. Rubbing her eyes and pushing her hair aside, Charlotte slowly started hoisting herself up on her knees, hissing in pain from how sensitive her body had become. When she feebly lifted her head, she watched her ex-boyfriend casually licking his soaked hands, her cheeks growing hot from the lewd display.

Jacob stared at her through half-lidded eyes, his tongue lapping up at her sweet essence. As he finished cleaning his hand, he beckoned for her to come to him, eyes expectantly watching her limp from her spot and settle down over his pelvis.

“You’re insane,” she whispered, fumbling with the ties on his pants.

Jacob smirked at her, slick thumbs rotating underneath the outline of her breasts. “Don’t deny that you love it.”

She didn’t comment, rolling the helm of his pants off of his legs, gulping at the swollen cock in her line of vision. The tip was massively red, practically ready to burst soon if not alleviated soon. She curiously ran a finger over the top, watching him grit his teeth in discomfort. In an instant, his hands were back on her hips and forced her to stand up, careful in making sure she didn’t fall. Before he could turn her around, she firmly pushed him back onto an empty bench, loving the surprised expression on his face from her unexpected action.

Charlotte dangerously glowered at him when he tried regaining control, slamming his hands beside him. “I’m in charge.”

He amusedly chuckled, letting her have the chance to dominate. “Be my guest.”

The British man gasped when she sank down on him, cursing out loud from the indescribable feeling. He saw her long torso arch from the contact, captivated by her breathy, sweet call that escaped from her parted lips. Jacob let his fingers gently tugged onto the band holding her hair back, licking his lips as her shiny locks tumbled down her shimmering body. He urged himself to kiss her senseless, though her gloved hand abruptly wrapped around his jugular, growling when she moved him away before sinking her teeth into his thick neck.

“Damn you, Frye,” he heard her snarl above him through their dynamic fucking, loudly groaning as she slid over him.

“No sweetheart, we’re both damned,” Jacob whispered, brawny arms skimming over her back.

He gyrated his hips deeper into her at the same time she slammed down on him, earning a low growl from the warrior above him from the combined coupling. Their bodies skinned against one another, both clawing at each other’s backs while their skins boiled over, channeling their pent up frustrations. She didn’t care that his hands viciously titled her head back, his mouth slamming onto hers while she slickly hovered over his dick. Precum leaked from her entrance, her teeth clashing over his lips and tasting the metallic substance staining her mouth.

“Jacob!” Charlotte felt her walls tighten around him, moaning inside his mouth when she felt him swell inside her.

“That’s it, love,” she shivered from his accent, nails digging deeper into his broad back, creating crimson crescent marks. “I’m so close. Fuck, you’re tight!”

Her heart hammered against her chest from the pounding pressure in her head, the room spinning all around her. She could feel _him_ ; the way his cock pummeled every inch of her made her go insane, his balls creating deep friction against her bottom, and her body greedily took him all in, as if it missed his touch—a year without him made her terribly ache for him. But she stayed strong because Charlotte wasn’t one for random physical contact and petty emotions, doesn’t need a man when she had herself to fully take care of herself, or at least that’s what she kept scolding herself.

The Scottish woman scoffed when he had nearly blown a casket for believing she was romantically seeing her Templar colleague; as much as she had admired Shay like any other close friend, she wouldn’t see herself drawn to him as she was to Jacob. There was something dangerous about Jacob that attracted her, something . . . _animalistic_. And it was addicting.

_I’m really going insane._

The tightening pull in her nether regions intensified, her electric eyes shutting closed from the pain. With one prolonged groan, the tall woman finally cummed all over her ex-boyfriend, panting heavily against his stubble while her gloved hand steadied herself against his chest, tracing the tattoo with her finger. She felt him sigh from the pleasurable sensation, her juices coating over his thighs as she released everything she had to offer while he continued thrusting into her.

“Shit!”

She knew he wasn’t that far behind, already feeling him pulsating inside of her. Charlotte watched him throw his head back from the buildup, and before he could empty all of his content inside of her, she unexpectantly withdrew herself from his lap, acutely listening to his pained growl. The tall woman slowly backed up while his hazel eyes flared, a sinister grin etched across his face as he stood up from the bench, and she tried hard not to notice the behemoth cock in front of her coated in her essence.

“You shouldn’t have done that, love.” Brown-green eyes glinted wildly, his tongue casually lapping up over his lower lip. He darkly chuckled from her gunmetal eyes that watched his every movement, his feet coming towards her in a few strides. “You’re going to regret it.”

In an instant, the Scottish woman ducked out of the way, wincing from the sensitive feeling in between her legs, still not fully recovered from his rough treatment. Charlotte eased herself against the wall of the gym, breathing irregularly while bravely watching the British man cage her in, arms propped on either side of her head. She rivaled his burning gaze, though she gasped when he braced her legs on either side of him, holding her in place before slamming inside of her once more.

Nothing was ever gentle with them; rarely did they ever have moments where they would hold back on one another—they preferred it dangerous and passionate. They didn’t care; it was their own way of displaying their affections, no matter how brutal they expressed them.

She threw her head back when he hit that special spot inside of her, hands clasping together from behind his neck while her legs stayed glued to his hipbones. They both hissed at each other, tongues nipping at one another while he crushed her body against the hard wall behind her, breasts squished up closer to his sweaty, well-defined chest. She hummed, sensing him slow down in his long strokes fulfilling her to the core.

He panted close to her ear, grunting from the burning pain in his loins. “You like that, love? Imagine what it must’ve felt like without this for a whole goddamn year.”

“Jacob—”

The male instantly interrupted her, picking up his tempo while leaving small hickeys across her neck. “It tortured me; every time I thought about one of those scums fucking you like this, I wanted to _slaughter_ them. I followed you around when you think I wasn’t there, and I loathed them all.”

Charlotte mewled, releasing another hiss when he pistoned deep within her. She icily glared at him, chest heaving as she tried regulating her breaths. “You don’t have to—”

“I bloody will tell you everything; how you made me feel whole inside after that day you finally said yes, how I felt betrayed when you accepted to be one of them and then abandoned me. Sweetheart, I couldn’t stop imagining you one day returning, begging for me to take you back and fuck you senseless.”

“You’re dirty.”

Jacob smirked above the nape of her neck, drawling out his teeth to roll across her skin. “You love it, Charlotte. I could see it in your eyes, you desperately yearned for me. How does it feel to be defenseless and buckling underneath me, letting my dick fuck you until you can’t walk?”

“Asshole,” she spat. “Don’t make me sound like I’m the bad guy. You know perfectly well whose controlling personality started this whole mess. If you’d trusted me—”

“I know,” he heatedly replied, hands digging into the back of her hips as he angled himself deeper inside of her womb, both hissing from the delicious friction. “I know, now. But I couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving my life forever. Any guy would be damn lucky to have you—I know I am. You will always be my first, just like I am yours.”

The Scottish woman flushed from his words; never had he ever said anything romantic to her before, even if it was his anger and grief talking. They weren’t good with verbal communication, but their actions spoke very high volumes about how they felt about one another. She pivoted her head to the side, a faint blush marring across her cheeks.

_He still cares, and so do you._

“Please,” Jacob pleaded, softly kissing the spot underneath her ear. “Come back.”

No words ever escaped past her lips, her blue eyes staring back at him while his face scrunched up, no doubt nearing his end. Her gloved hand softly scratched his tuft of hair, their moist lips connecting back together as he thrusted into her one last time before emptying his seed with a sharp gasp. Charlotte tugged him harder, shuddering when his fingers unruly dug inside her thighs, groaning from the warmth spreading through her like a wildfire before he slumped against her.

The eerily silence followed by the aftermath made both parties perk their heads up; they couldn’t detect the sound of her music playing in the background, only hearing the labored pants pour out of their mouths. Their sweaty foreheads met, both chastely kissing before Charlotte pulled back, though her hands stayed where they were.

“Fine,” she murmured, inclining her head to peer into his wide eyes. “I’ll come back, but if you ever try to dictate what I do, I’ll screw you over.”

A wide smile graced across his glowing face, and he gratefully kissed every spot on her face while she struggled from the sudden contact. “I’m fine with it, love. Hell, I’ll even let you tie me up, drag me onto—”

“Finish that sentence, and you won’t see the light of day, Frye.”

“Kinky, are we?”

She shook her head disbelievingly, wondering how she ever put up with his perverse nature. She was about to reattach herself from his body when his hands firmly held her in place, eyebrow quirking at him. “What are you doing?”

“C’mon, the night is still young. We still have enough stamina to go until morning,” he winked, caressing her sides while positioning himself.

“You’re insatiable! I have a meeting tomorrow—”

He hoarsely chuckled against her neck, swirling his tongue over the large bruise he had imprinted on her moments ago, successfully cutting her off as she futilely shoved against him. “Mm, screw the meeting. Call in sick, love.”

As the two commenced more hours of their prolonged lovemaking, none of them bothered paying attention to the vibrating object loudly ringing from within the confines of her bag.

**Author's Note:**

> Gothic: So um . . . . . yeah :')
> 
> Charlotte: It's always the quiet ones
> 
> Gothic: . . . You're quiet . . .
> 
> Charlotte . . .
> 
> Gothic: So?
> 
> Charlotte: . . . Okay
> 
> Gothic: Okay as in good or bad?
> 
> Charlotte: Just okay


End file.
